The Hall of Silence
by Mister Quintessential
Summary: An experimental FFTA2 and FFTA crossover. The two heroes meet, their destinies intertwine as an even more ancient and deadly enemy begins to reveal itself ... T for some violence and some suggestive dialogue. Rating may improve or degrade as I continue.
1. Prologue

_16th Goldsun_

_Location: The Cheery Chocobo_

_Journal Entry 192_

_Traveling to Moorabella via airship was not really a good idea. The cabins on the 'Cheery Chocobo' smelled of, well, wet Chocobo Skin, our Captain was obnoxious, the crew smelled as if they didn't know what a shower or water was, and the washrooms; well, let's just say if you drop something, you're not getting it back for a while, unless you mind having to scrub every square inch of your skin clean afterwards. But this ride would be worth it. _

_My clan would be partaking as one of many 'guests of honour' in the various cups held in and around Jylland for the quote-unquote unimaginable riches after dominating one._

_Despite our poor circumstances, I sharpened my sword with the chef's (who, uncomfortably, lost his sense of smell in a 'culinary accident') grindstone, polished my armour with whatever non-murky water there was on the ship (mostly either conjured or rainwater), and sparred with my clanmates whenever time permitted (which rarely time did, because the Captain made us clean, to 'pay off half of the debt', which made no sense because I paid in full and in advance. Plus, I took him out to lunch. God, what an asshole.)_

_Anyways, with every passing day, our clan steels itself for the challenges that lie ahead. Every day we get better in one way or another. And once we reach Flourgis, Clan Nutsy is gonna kick some serious freaking ass._

_This is Marche Radiuju, signing off - it's time for 'dinner'. (Look, it's mystery 'meat' again)_


	2. Plastic Dagger

Luso Clemens was sitting on a stump, in front of a crackling bonfire, where all of his clan members were assembled. They weren't in combat formation; they were simply having a good time.

The brown haired boy sat and laughed and talked with a few of his clan members while his good friend, the Moogle Hurdy, played a lilting melody on his lute. Sitting at a table behind him was Al-Cid Margrace and a group of Viera, all blushing madly as he flexed, grunted, and did other silly things.

Adelle and Cid were at the buffet table, bickering about who took the last slice of custard cake. Trying to get in between the two towering figures was Hurdy's big brother, Montblanc, attempting (but looked as if he was failing) to break it up.

Frimelda was sitting at a table with a few of her friends, surprisingly, ignoring all of the passes made on her by the more brave male members of the clan. If she hadn't left her good sword behind at the Pub, she would've have had an impressive collection of severed heads sitting beside her.

Vaan and Penelo couldn't make it for reasons unexplained, however it was implied in their apology letter that they had stumbled onto some millennia old treasure ... again. It was okay, they did this every time there was some sort of celebration, and everyone had gotten used to it by now.

The party itself wasn't a birthday celebration but in reality was a sort of anniversary - the anniversary where Luso was sworn into the clan. When the melody that Hurdy was playing finished, everyone applauded rather loudly, even the ones that weren't listening. This included Al-Cid, who stopped making silly noises just to clap.

Hurdy took a bow. "Thanks, kupo! You've been a _great_ audience!" He sat down beside Montblanc, who had apparently given up trying to stop Cid and Adelle's fight at the buffet table. Speaking of which, where was Adelle? Luso swivelled his head to look for the familiar pink-haired Hume. She wasn't at the food table, pigging out. She wasn't out with any of her other friends either. That was strange.

Suddenly, Luso felt the tip of a blade press against the back of his neck. Months of training had conditioned him for this, and what happened next was little more than a series of well-practiced reflexes.

Luso got up, wrenched the blade from the potential attacker, knocked away their hand and followed up with a roundhouse kick to the opponent's stomach.

"Oww …", a familiar voice whined. The laughing and talking had stopped for a split second as they saw who was on the ground, clutching her stomach in what looked to be excruciating pain. "I've told you nearly a _million _times! It's a PLASTIC DAGGER!"

Cid spoke up. "You deserve it. You've done that too much times to poor ol' Luso and every time you nearly gave him a heart attack." Adelle whimpered.

"Get over it, you've survived worse.", Luso smiled, helping Adelle up. She shot both Cid and Luso a dirty glance and returned to her former place, sitting beside Domenic, the clan's resident Sage. The Nu Mou was clearly trying not to laugh, his floppy ears quivering.

Luso winked at Domenic and asked Hurdy to play another song. The crackling of the bonfire and the raucous chatter of Luso's clanmates went on into the night, accompanied by one more of Hurdy's upbeat and celebratory ballads.

At the Moorabella Aerodrome …

I stretched my back. We were finally here, the Moorabella Aerodrome - the gateway to Jylland and 'unimaginable riches'.

The first thing I noticed was the Nu Mou, happily chattering and walking around the lobby. It looked as if most of them were simple scholars, and it sounded like they were each discussing things much too complicated for me to even comprehend. Judgemaster Cid would've loved to mingle with them, as he was an avid practitioner of magick and enjoyed getting into friendly debates with other likeminded men (mostly Nu Mou). Sadly though, he could not come with us, the duties of upholding law in Ivalice keeping him back in the homeland. He would've certainly been a good addition to our clan for the cups.

Ritz Malheur walked into the Aerodrome, pulling a steel blade from the sheathe on her back, visually inspecting it to make sure that the rough journey hadn't caused any sort of damage to it. She had learnt the skill of the Spellblade from a Viera also hitching a ride on the Cheery Chocobo. She wasn't too good at balancing both magic and physical battle styles, but often practiced. Ritz always kept her signature fencing foil strapped to her leg though. _Just in case_, she would often say.

Our other five clan members entered the lobby, stretching and talking to everyone else. Babus trotted out, talking to summoner Cecelia, like usual. Following them were Abelard and Anselm, Abelard making faces at Anselm's firewyrm, trying to get it to react. The only reaction he'd get from the firewyrm was a scorched face, but Abelard never really learnt.

I smiled and performed a final headcount. For a split second I thought we had forgotten one person. One moogle, to be exact. Then I realized he left the clan for 'reasons unknown'. If only Montblanc were here. If only.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Here you go, the Prologue and the First Chapter of my revamped FFTA2 fic - the Hall of Silence. I have to admit, I'm having quite a bit of fun rewriting things, and I might end up staying a bit longer ...**

**Also, I've set deadlines for chapters. The first few are a bit lacklustre, I agree, but the next few that I'm going to be rolling out are gonna get only BETTER, I guarantee you! Expect weekly updates, too. (I know, a first. Try checking on the weekend or on Sunday, hehe.) The word count per chapter is at least going to stay in the mid thousands range, but I might adjust the bar as I get more comfortable with writing.**

**Anyways, all comments and criticism are welcomed - just drop me a review down there.**


	3. The Essence

A blue haired woman, with a sheathed katana hanging loosely off of her bak and a bulky looking book hanging by a chain attached to her belt stood, rather nervously, in the middle of a darkened, circular chamber.

A spotlight shone brightly on her. The origin of the light wasn't clearly explained and it seemed that it was coming from absolutely nowhere. It was most likely magickal, as her body was not giving off any sort of shadow.

Around her sat cloaked men and women alike, on uncomfortable-looking thrones that looked to be made of granite. She was standing before the Grand Council, perhaps the only thing in the world that she was truly deathly afraid of.

"You have failed to summon the Neuhkia.", one of them said, matter-of-factly. Illua bowed her head. "I apologize sincerely. But that little pest, Luso Clemens and his insignificant plan got in the way of the Grand Plan. Please, forgive me." Illua said, trying hard not to reveal the tiny beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

"If they are so _insignificant,_ as you say, why did they defeat you?", one scolded. He paused, and then added, "Three times? You were lucky one of us was there to save you from death's grasp." He paused again. "For the third time."

"Stop it, Ragna. She is inexperienced.", a man said. He was sitting directly in front of her. This man was the Grandmaster, a very, very dangerous man. It was surprising that _he_ wasn't the one scolding Illua at the moment. Like everyone else's robe, it was a deep black, but instead of being outlined in a blood red, it was trimmed in a lustrous gold.

"Illua," he cooed. It was the same tone of voice one would assume if they were scolding a small child. It irritated Illua to be spoken to in that tone of voice, but she had to swallow her pride if she wanted to live. "We have given you control over the most dangerous clan in Jylland. We granted you access to Magnus. We expected you to do great things for the Order. We expected you, with all of this power, to execute the Plan we had spent so long laying out. We still trust you. I still trust you.", the Grandmaster said. "But, for now, you have proven your insolence one too many times."

"We will not punish you, as Grandmaster has said.", a woman's voice said. She sounded as if she was directly behind her. "But you are not to be presided over by a bodyguard. He will serve as your equal and your partner, as well as your probationary officer, if you will." Illua nodded.

"Good. We expect great things from you, Illua.", the Grandmaster stated. They disappeared at the same time. As soon as they all left, she suddenly felt a presence behind her, a presence that she was certain wasn't there before.

"My name is Llednar Twem. I am your probationary officer. Come.", the voice said. This Llednar was probably something if they assigned a child _half her age_ to be her partner.

He placed his hand on Illua's shoulder. The two of them blinked out of existence for a split second and popped back into reality a split second after.

They ended up in Zellea, the Forbidden Land. More specifically, the area where Illua had faced her defeat. To Touch the Heavens, they called it.

The ground was covered with some sort of sticky purple muck, most likely whatever was left of the Neuhkia's incomplete physical form. However, in the middle of the battleground was a pulsating, jet black gem. That certainly wasn't there before. It seemed to emanate an aura that put Illua on edge for some reason.

"That is the Nightmare Stone.", he said, pointing to the gem. "Your job is to go to Ivalice, my homeland. You are to defeat the Totemas once more, collect their essence and return here. The Stone will do the rest."

"What will you do, Llednar?", Illua asked, her hand on the handle of her katana, purely out of instinct. "While you are out, I will preside over the day-to-day operations of the clan.", Llednar replied.

Illua nodded. "Okay. I have one more question for you." She looked to her new partner. Llednar cocked his head inquisitively. "Yes?"

"Where do I start?"


	4. First Blood

On the path to Zedlei Forest, we had come across a shady looking clan with a few new races which weren't at all familiar to us. Ritz turned to me and pointed to a short, snouted figure which bore an uncanny resemblance to a pig. "What is that fat thing?" Despite his stature, he was wielding an intimidating-looking gilt axe which looked to be half his size and twice his weight.

"I'm not _FAT!_", he yelled from the far end of the path. He raised his axe and summoned a thunderbolt to strike Ritz. _So it knew magick._ Luckily, Cecelia, our Summoner, who was also well-versed in the arts of the White Mage erected a simple shell around Ritz. The bolt bounced harmlessly off of the clear barrier and dissipated.

The Bangaa pointed his Materia Blade at the other clan. "They're just **VYING** for a fight.", Abellard sputtered from behind his Gladiator's mask. His abnormally high testosterone level was peaking, and one could see a vein running down his neck pop out.

Also among us was Anselm, our environmentally friendly Hunter. He was patting his firewyrm, the only pet (among hundreds) that he insisted on bringing. It spit out sparks and narrowed its eyes. "He doesn't like the look of them, Marche." Lysippe seemed to be baring its teeth and blowing sparks from it's snout.

A Juggler from the clan walked up to us. He was flanked on either side by a fighter and a dragoon.

"Look.", he said, pulling out his dagger and nonchalantly examining the blade. "We don't want any trouble, and you don't want any trouble. Just give us all you got, and we'll both be the better, kupo."

"We don't enjoy causing trouble, but if the situation requires it, well ...", the Fighter offered a roguish grin to me. The moogle himself looked quite dangerous. The fighter and the dragoon looked quite dangerous. Hell, the entirety of the other clan looked _quite dangerous_.

I briefly think about handing over the meagre amount of Gil in our pocket. "No.", I say firmly. The Juggler, taken aback at the statement, shook his head and walked back to his clan.

"Ready, guys?", I ask my clan. Everyone nods. Abellard's neck vein bulges. But before I can fully unsheathe my blade, a Judge materializes in front of me.

"You are not an Adjudged clan.", he says behind his helmet. "What? Adjudged?", I ask him incredulously. Despite almost all of my time being spent in Cid's company as his protege, I had never heard of the term 'adjudged' before.

"Look buddy, we've got direct ties with the Judgemaster. **LET US RIP THEIR HEADS OFF!**", Abellard sputtered, now pointing his blade at the Judge.

"The Judgemaster has no control over individual battles in the Jylland region. Therefore, you have no influence here.", the judge said, shaking his head. "Here, in Jylland, Judges do not appear on the battlefield whatsoever. A registered clan has its own judge and oversees the battle from afar. We keep you safe from true death, but only if you agree to follow my laws."

An arrow flew from the far end of the path, straight towards the Judge lecturing us. The other clan looked impatient. An invisible barrier protecting the Judge snapped the projectile in half once it got close enough.

He ignored the attack and continued. "They do have a Judge with them, though, and as such, you cannot truly kill them. However, we cannot interfere with battles and you may be as vicious or as violent as you can - as long as you cooperate with the laws in effect." I could hear Abellard fist-pumping behind me.

"Do you wish for me to be your clan's Judge?", he questioned. His judgesword materialized out of thin air, appearing in his hand. It seemed like he already knew the answer. "Yeah sure, I guess." He tapped the sword on my shoulder and disappeared in a flash of brilliant light.

"So … we're adjudged now?", asked Cecelia. "I was expecting a few more bells and whistles." Suddenly, as if to answer her question, a booming voice spoke. "You are now an adjudged clan. The current law as of now is against Excessive Force."

I looked at Babus. "Excessive force?" The former court magician shrugged. Apparently even he had never heard of a law against excessive force.

"Let the battle begin!", the voice announced.

* * *

_Adelle's Journal_

_19th of Goldsun_

_Baptiste Highlands - Zedlei High Road_

_Journal Entry 1549_

_To anyone that didn't personally know the little squirt, Luso would've looked like as much of a threat as a loaf of burnt bread. However, people who actually knew him knew better. Under his roguish clothes, he hid an impressive physique for someone his age. He could swing around giant broadswords as if they were nothing at all._

_For example, take Cid. He's a pretty big guy, that's for sure. It's a common sight to see him beating things to a bloody pulp. Some even say he enjoys doing so, but that's a tale for another entry. Anyways, the point I'm trying to get across is that Cid is pretty damn strong. Yesterday, however, Luso and him got into a friendly brawl. Within a minute, he had Cid on the floor tapping on the ground and begging for mercy._

_I'll let that sink in. … Yeah, I know. Crazy, right? If that still doesn't convince you, well there is still one more piece of compelling evidence!_

_Just today, we were tasked with the arduous (read: physically exhausting and mind numbing) task of protecting some old fart's crops from garden pests._

_He insisted on bringing Hurdy, me, Cid, Frimelda and Julianne, our clan's assassin. When we got there, however, it seemed as if he didn't need us in the least. I mean, seriously - the entire time we lounged about while Luso was piledriving dreamhares into the ground and throwing wolves around like they were nothing._

_Anyways, enough about that tangent. So right now, I guess, we're taking a quick breather underneath one of the trees then it's off to Goug to meet up with Clan Bowen for a night out on the town. I wonder what we're going to do. Knowing Bowen, we might end up goin_

Halfway through writing the journal entry, a shockwave suddenly ripped through the air. First came a roaring wall of wind, followed by a large bang.

It took all six of us by surprise, that was for sure. I had dropped my journal, and somewhere behind me, I heard something break followed by a rather loud expletive.

Maybe a few miles away from our current position, the top half of a large, translucent blue orb could be seen rapidly expanding and then, equally as fast, disappearing.

"…kupo?!", Hurdy questioned incredulously, trying to correct the now awkward position of the pom-pom on his head.

"What was that?", Frimelda asked Luso. She looked equally as startled as the rest of us. "I dunno, but that explosion snapped my good sharpening block in half. If I ever find that idiot who just cast that Ultima, why, I've got half a mind to …", Luso went on complaining, but I paid no attention to him.

I hadn't seen an Ultima spell as strong as that since my adolescent adventures in Ivalice, watching a Gladiator decimate his foes in one of the house cups, just using a single Ultima to blow the entirety of the opposing team to the next dimension.

"Luso, lad. Calm down! We'll check it out and talk to the man. Also, I hope you know that swords aren't meant to be shoved in that orifice!", Cid said, trying his best to calm Luso down from his rage.

"Fine.", he moped. He stood up and began to walk in the direction of the blast. We all followed.

* * *

"Hey! Watch your back!", I yelled across the field. Abellard spun around at just the right time and knocked an approaching Fighter onto the ground using the back of his hand. He waved at me and assumed his battle stance once again. Cecelia fired off a few thunderbolts at a Fencer from across the field, but the Fencer's vest seemed to take the brunt of the damage. It was their turn, I thought grimly.

The fighter that Abellard knocked back went up to him and took a vicious slash Bangaa, removing along with it a very large chunk of flesh that made the Gladiator howl in rage.

Abellard tried to counter, but the Fighter's ninja-like reflexes caught the flat of the blade and kicked the him in the stomach, a kick that seemed to carry so much force it knocked him back a few meters. _Impressive, _I mused to myself.

A sniper, hidden under the canopy of the trees fired an arrow, trailed by what looked to be some black fog. It hit Abellard square in the chest, who was currently giving his patented death glare to the offending fighter. It took Abellard a few seconds to realize what had suddenly lodged itself right above his heart. However, being the masochist that he was, he simply snapped the shaft in half, leaving the arrowhead embedded in his breastplate. "That all you got?"

He swore and waved the half-arrow in the air. Suddenly, Abellard fell to the ground as the Grim Reaper emerged from the wound that the arrow left. The Reaper cackled loudly and disappeared.

"First blood!", the Judge said, in a wispy and etherial voice. There was no time to stop and wonder what had happened. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the Juggler was arching back, a lit molotov in his hands.

"ULTIMA!", I bellowed, not thinking. I pointed my blade at the Moogle and the ground under him began to crack. From behind those cracks erupted a brilliant cerulean light. The light began to expand rapidly from the ground, enveloping him and a few neighbouring trees. The spell dissipated and he appeared a second later, on the ground and bleeding from the mouth, but still very much alive.

"Marche has broken the law!", our Judge had bellowed. Suddenly, I had the wind knocked out of me. The blow knocked me to the ground, but no-one was around to have delivered it. I took a look around - each of my clan members looked queasy and weak. It seemed that breaking the laws in Jylland proved more fatal than breaking the laws in Ivalice did, where you'd (literally) get off of the hook with nothing more but a slap on the hand.

Ritz walked up to me. "Good job, you idiot. Looks like we're without a Judge for now. First fight, too."

I deadpan. "Come on, Ritz. We're a battle hardened clan hailing directly from Ivalice. How many times have we saved the world?"

"Once.", Ritz mutters under her breath. I choose to ignore this wisecrack. "I mean, we've been invited, as _guests of honour_ to participate in a series of tourneys where deadly clans compete for fame and riches!" I scoff at the other clan. "It's like a ragtag group of misfits could even _dream_ of standing up to us." Ritz raises her eyebrows. "Alright, sure, whatever you say."

I couldn't have been more wrong.

* * *

**A/N: **My sad and clunky attempt at trying to describe a battle scene. Not my best work, I know, but I'll try to improve. The next chapter is a bit longer, don't worry. Anyways, leave a review down below and I'll get back to you.


End file.
